


Trial and Error

by Elleth



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Character Death, Gen, Ghosts, Odense University Hospital, Rash Research, Year 0, gloom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 23:41:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8422192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elleth/pseuds/Elleth
Summary: The Odense Research Team believe they have made a breakthrough, to devastating consequences for one of them.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xhorhas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xhorhas/gifts).



_So tired._

The needle presses through a patch of Rash-infested skin inside a patient's elbow; the woman barely even twitches, only her eyes roll under closed lids and then still again while the medication enters her bloodstream. A plaintive meow makes Marieke Madsen look down. One of the researchers had brought her cat, and the grey tabby has been roaming the hospital wards lately, tirelessly. 

Her owner is long gone, and Marieke has long given up removing the cat from beds. Cat hair is the patients' least worry, and some seem to react well to a pet. They sleep more calmly, and if they slip away, the cat will crouch at the foot end of their bed with hairs on end, informing staff which patients have passed from their care. 

The crematorium has been running overtime, but they're too close now to give up. 

_Perhaps this trial is good news_ , Marieke thinks as she caps the syringe and after a cursory glance at the label lays it aside. It's the latest thing they've had, and it's done promising things to the cell cultures and poor infected critters in the lab. As the cat jumps onto the patient's bed, nudges her head against Marieke's cupped palm and begins a deep, rumbling purr, she thinks this may be how Fleming felt, or Pasteur, or any of those pioneers, but mostly she's just _tired_ and her feet feel heavy and swollen after being about all day, but all things considered, that she can still feel tired and suffer aching feet is a blessing: she, like the cat, is lucky to be immune - or to have a long-delayed onset of the Illness, but she doesn't believe that any longer. It's months past the longest incubation period they've recorded. Her own blood is in this serum. Perhaps she can pass it along. 

"A good omen, hmm?" she says and scratches the cat behind the ears. "You'd tell me if something were off, wouldn't you?" The cat's purr deepens. Marieke wishes she remembered her name, but she's taken to calling her Magnus, in honour of countless Madsen family cats. "Come on now. One more round before bedtime." 

Another little triumph - she's almost made it to the end of her shift. Grete will cover the night, and already behind the ward windows darkness and a persistent drizzle have settled onto Odense, which itself lies dark, while outside the perimeter fence things move through the deserted streets. But if she's lucky, they won't come too close to the gunners' turrets and she can have an undisturbed night without gunfire or explosions. She'll sleep right in the ward, right where she's needed, inside a bubble of relative quiet, comfort and safety. 

If she's very lucky, she may even reach her family before she goes to sleep; her radio has been crackling with static at best lately, and with distorted voices at worst. She just wants to tell them the good news. Everyone's going stir-crazy on their little island farm, and having some hope that the worst will soon be over - that'll do them all good. For herself Bornholm was always too small, and she point-blank refused coming there when there still was a chance. In Odense at least she can be useful. 

With Magnus on her heels, she checks on an earlier group of trial patients. One of them is already gone; the first man she injected with the latest version of the drug, and where their comatose states were unchanged and even promising for their day-long stasis at the beginning of her shift, now many of the readings have altered into worrying downward trajectories - more losses by morning, if their brain activity does not improve, more dead husks and failures. Another victory for the Rash. More autopsies for the morgue staff, more work for the crematorium. More resignation, and back to the laboratory. 

Magnus is pressed against her leg, growling low and questioning in her throat. "I know," Marieke says with a sigh, and moves to unplug the monitor. She's been through this too often for anything more than resignation, by now. It feels like the dead man's lips frown in judgement of her. "I am sorry, for what it's worth," she says to him, yanks the paper strip free of the printer and reads out his name, the time and cause of death. "I _am_ sorry," she says again. "We tried. And we'll keep trying. I know part of this is on me."

Unexpectedly, she can feel tears pricking her eyes. She must be more tired than she's thought. After all, she's not like Michael, the little brother who is prone to flights of fancy and dramatic breakdowns in public places. She's more solid than that, and not a little proud of it. 

Magnus has not stopped growling; if anything she's grown louder. She sounds scared. _Isn't there,_ Marieke thinks, lingering when she thinks she feels a cold breeze that shouldn't be there, _a superstition that cats can see Death when he's in the room?_

So much for flights of fancy. But it is fall at the end of life as she knew it, in an empty hospital in a dead city in a silent world. She supposes she can forgive herself that, and who's going to tell - Magnus? 

Marieke pulls the sheet over the dead man's face, straightens herself back up onto her aching feet and turns to go. 

A cold, insubstantial hand cups the back of her head. 

Magnus yowls in terror, and streaks toward the door. 

Then, nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> Magnus is a sensible cat, she'll be fine. <3


End file.
